Why Don't you Do Right?
by Neross-qod
Summary: From the moment he heard her voice he was unable to turn away. And how can he do what's right when her body craves what's wrong? All he needed was the information she offered. All he wants is her voice calling his name. AU FemShep/Garrus


Neross: Alright...so this is my first foray into the world of Mass Effect fanfiction. Personally I'm not going to blame any one thing for this fic's creation but uh...I may admit that I may have been obsessed with a certain game and that uh...my mind happened to be too hoped up on 'love pheromones' from whatever trashy romance novel I'm reading at the moment and concoted this monstrosity of an idea while listening to some old nostalgic music. In any case, enjoy my sick little darlings.

Warning: This fanfiction may contains scenes of alcohol consumption, inappropriate language, adult situations, and sexual situations. It is not intended for those under the age of sixteen...or the mental age of those under the age of sixteen.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any Mass Effect character, setting, or subject matter. I also do not own the rights to the song 'Why Don't you Do Right?'

Summary: From the moment he heard her voice he was unable to turn away. And how can he do what's right when her body craves what's wrong?

...

It was raining and the sound of a piano playing soft jazz echoed from the club like a follow-up chorus to the drum-beat of the rain on the awning above his head. He couldn't hear the singing, not yet, but the bass plucked out a low, familiar tune that he could feel just through the cool metal of the door. He pulled his hat lower on his head, expecting trouble. But trouble was the M.O. at Warden's Keep. The local color were the regulars here, and the local color was mostly suspicious of outsiders. So he kept his head down and knocked two times, loudly.

A small slot pulled open just below his eye level, but that was normal, he wasn't from around here...and with a human population this large it was generally assumed anything above six feet was just a tad bit too tall. A pair of stark blue eyes glared out of the peep-hole and then shot upward to stare with contempt up at him. "Password?" a deep voice growled over the suddenly escalating sounds of erratic jazz in the background.

He shifted uncomfortably, his face twitching in nervous tension, he could only hope his info wasn't as rotten as the guy he'd gotten it from had smelled. "Phantom Noir." The peep-hole slammed shut so quickly that he pulled back in surprise. He wondered, for a moment, if he'd gotten the password wrong. But then the door pulled back to reveal the long hallway and the dome-shaped clubroom with it's small center stage just beyond.

Cautiously he stepped over the threshold, removing his hat as he did so. As the door shut behind him he turned to see the bouncer and was surprised to see not one, but two Krogan. The one with the pale steel-colored plating and the intense blue eyes was the one he guessed he'd had the pleasure of addressing. His name tag read 'Grunt' and he found himself fighting back an amused snort. The Krogan caught his amusement and his eyes lowered into a deeper glare and he growled in warning. "What'cha lookin' at bub?" The other one piped in, drawing the attention of his angrier, and clearly younger partner.

His name-tag read 'Wrex' and he was as scarred and beaten up as he was dashing in his uniform. He looked strikingly well put-together in the dark suit the humans had him wearing. The stranger waved a non-committal hand and anxiously turned away. "Nothing...sorry. I'm going." and with that he tread his way into the interior of the club, the jazz now a pleasant cacophony of sound in the background. It was a good level, loud enough so it drowned out one table from another, quiet enough that you could talk to your neighbor without shouting.

Not that he'd come to talk to anyone. That wasn't why he'd traveled out here from the Citadel itself. He found himself an empty seat at the end of the stage's walkway and sat before the curious glances of the nearly all-human crowd became too much to bear. He hung his tan-colored coat over the back of his chair and sat his hat on the end of his table. He was loosening his tie and studying the band on-stage, when a waiter came to take his order. A geth waiter. He fought back an urge to reach for his pistol.

"Your order?" It asked tilting it's head almost curiously. His voice grumbled in his throat, biting back mistrust, as he answered. "Scotch on the rocks." The geth nodded and looked about to walk away when he realized his mistake. "And I mean ice." he snapped. The geth kept walking and he sighed. If this was to be his evening then he already knew it wasn't going to end well. He turned back to the stage as the band rounded out their number and clapped with the rest of the audience in appreciation as the stage's curtain pulled close.

His drink came as the lights darkened, and a spotlight hit the center-most portion of the curtains, where left curtain met right. He tipped the geth and was glad to see his order had been made right, ice and all. He had only just taken a sip when he heard the singing at last. And a soft feminine croon flowed over him as warm as the scotch that slipped down his throat.

"You had plenty money Nineteen twenty-two." The curtain didn't open but the most gorgeous, pale, length of leg he'd ever seen slipped through with a caress the barest hint of a sparkling deep blue dress evident at the top of the thigh, highlighting the silver heel that framed a delicate ankle and small foot.

And then the curtain pulled back in a flash to reveal the band...and the most gorgeous human woman he'd ever laid eyes on. That slip of sparkling deep blue that acted as her dress might as well have been painted on. It was sleeveless and clung to her breasts and gracious hips like a lover, it's hem moving with her like water. Sleek, silver gloves ran up her arms to meet just above her elbows and were placed on her hips in confidence. Flaming red hair hung in waves and soft curls around her face and spilled onto her shoulders like spun, crimson, blood. A slice of bang hung in her face hiding one of what he was sure were a pair of crystal, blue eyes with dreaming depths. Soft, red lips, plump and looking as wet as if she had just been kissed senseless moved in soft motions upon an elegant face framed with high, strong cheekbones and soft, rounded cheeks.

She stepped forward on the stage to an uproar of cat-calls and howls from the many, many, men in the audience. "You let other women make a fool of you. Why don't do right?" Her eyes settled on the edge of the stage and he swallowed heavily. "Like some other men do?" The hand on her left hip dipped low to run across her exposed thigh and then up to her stomach. "Get out of here. Get me some money too." that hand trailed its way up to rest atop her left breast, like a hand placed upon her heart. "You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about."

Another step forward and she was suddenly on the stage's walkway, it was only a single step closer, but it made his heart throb painfully in his chest. Her right hand drifted up to flip her hair over her shoulder, only to have it slowly slide back into place. "If you ain't got no money, they will put you out."

She continued down the walkway, one slow step at a time, until at last she came to the end of the stage. He was surprised to find himself disappointed when she turned away from him to look to the lone Drell sitting at the table beside him. She stepped onto his table and held out her hand. He took it with an easy smile. "Why don't you do right? Like some other men do?" With the aid of the empty chair at the drell's table she stepped as lightly as a faerie onto the clubroom floor and turned toward the drell still holding her hand.

She followed his lead closer and circled him until she was at his back and only then did he release her. When he did she quickly snapped up the handkerchief sitting in his pocket. "Get out of here. Get me some money too." she sang, trailing the thin piece of silk under the drell's chin as she circled him once more, letting it drop away with as much care as a piece of trash...but with as much grace as a swan.

He found he couldn't breath as she stepped up to him, that confident hand on her hip, and before he could act she was placed so elegantly, so beautifully, in his lap. She ran her hands across his shoulder. "If you had prepared twenty years ago. You wouldn't be a-wanderin' now from door to door." She sang in that sultry voice, her blue eyes boring into his, as if gazing into the very essence of him. She trailed a hand across his face and then up underneath his chin, she leaned in close, as if to kiss him. And...damn him...he leaned in expectantly, eyes halving at the expected passion those red lips tentatively offered. But she pushed him back and gracefully slid to her feet, that damnable hand trailing a blaze of fire across his shoulder blades as she circled him easily."Why don't you do right?"

She pulled herself across his table, crossing her legs to flash so much more of that gorgeous milky white skin of hers. She leaned forward and grabbed his tie and pulled him forward, up and out of his chair. "Like some other men-" She held the note and paused only the briefest of moments, glorious moments that were filled a clear image of her ample chest and long lashes. And then finally she lowered her gaze and stared at him in an almost pleading way and sang out low and wanting. "Do..." She held that note as she slowly released him and pulled herself effortlessly back onto the stage.

And he was still sinking back into his seat when those slowly swinging hips turned to walk back down the stage, the curtain closing behind her as the band played her out.

The thunder of applause and uproar had never been so loud in his ear. Several jealous men came by to clap him on the back afterward, their smiles speaking of wanting to know what it had been like to come so close to tasting her. Even the drell from the table beside shot him a smile that was filled with a dangerous sort of jealous appreciation. His head reeled for a full hour afterword. He downed his scotch in a single drink to stifle the last of the tremors his body sent shooting down from his spine.

He stood and left the money for his drink on the table, swinging on his coat and hat he made his way to the back of the club. Another pair of bodyguards framed the door marked 'Employees Only', both human this time. One was a scarred and battered looking older man with a missing eye and a name-tag that marked him as 'Zaeed'. His shotgun marked him as 'dangerous'. Standing beside him was a thin wiry woman with no hair and tattoos framing her skull. Her name-tag said 'Jack' and her smile said she was looking for a fight.

He felt the heat of the scotch...and her touch...fade as his body went cold. This was the real test. "Can't you read bub? Area's for employee's only." Zaeed growled out, his hand going to the gun at his hip.

The approaching man raised a hand in acknowledgment but took a step closer anyway, the band had started again and he wanted to be heard. He brought out a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to the clearly suspicious man. "I know. I'm here to see someone. They told me to give you this."

Before the man could read it however, the woman, Jack, snatched it from his hand and quickly scanned it a grin splitting her face as she finished it. "No way. Holy shit you're one lucky S.O.B." Zaeed snatched it back, read it for himself and then let out a heavy sigh but stepped away from the door. "Alright you can head back, just mind yourself. Any trouble and your ass is grass. We clear?"

The stranger stared in confusion for a moment before nodding in serious understanding. Jack kicked the door-open without looking. "See ya on the other side bitch." He shot her a look but said nothing as he quickly stepped into the thin hallway beyond the door. It shut behind him with a faint snap, the sounds from the club almost completely cut-off. He looked behind him for only a moment before staring down the hall once more, looking for the proper door.

He found it easily enough, though it was at the end of the hallway. A nameplate on the door frame spelled out 'Shyla Shepard'. Yes, this was the correct room. He knocked on the door twice and felt his body warm as that smooth and sultry voice that had so sweetly crooned in his ear called out from behind the wooden barrier. "Come in. It's open."

She was sitting at a vanity when he entered, glass of red wine sitting just between her fingers, the smudge of red lipstick on the rim. Her legs were crossed when he entered and he was once again granted a view of so much gorgeous pale flesh. "Ma'am." He said, his breath close to catching in his throat, the door closing behind him with a gentle click...creating silence save for the loud beating of his heart.

She stood and smiled at him. "Sorry if my call was too sudden. The information you want is right here." For a brief moment he thought she might pull it from the depths of her top. Instead she simply reached over and picked up a data-pad he hadn't noticed sitting upon her vanity. She held it out to him and eagerly he reached for it, wanting nothing more than to take the data and run so as to avoid the burning in his body. However, at the last moment, she pulled it away and settled him with deep smirk, tilting her head tauntingly to the side.

"But it'd look suspicious if you left here so soon after being called back here." She told him standing and moving away from him, drawing his eyes to the sway of her hips and the fine movements of her dress. He made himself respond and forced his eyes back to her face. "So I'll leave through the back door." he ground out.

She turned slowly, a smooth smile on her face before she reached over and slipped the data-pad into the drawer of a nightstand next to a long Arabian-styled couch. She tapped it and he cursed as he saw the drawer lock with a DNA signature combination. Now he'd have to play her game. And a dangerous game it was as he watched slowly peel off one long silver glove. "They'll be watching the back door as well. They've become paranoid. Apparently some of my clients haven't been as ...discrete as they should be."

Her tone was amused as she turned to him, blue eyes flashing a dark and appreciative interest in him as she paused in the act of pulling off her second glove. "And I'm sure you've drawn a great deal of attention. We don't get many Turians here...let alone a Turian as good looking as you are."

His mandibles flared slightly, he couldn't tell if she was truly complimenting him or mocking him. He briefly touched the scarring on the side of his face she had so gently touched earlier and lowered his gaze. "That may be...but I'm not used to trading sexual favors for information on illegal merc activities."

She giggled at his comment, and his head snapped up to stare at her as she draped her gloves across the back of the chair that stood before her vanity. She turned to him with an amused smirk and ran a hand through her hair, causing it to move in a wave across her face. "Neither am I." she told him pleasantly.

His eyes widened slightly before he settled once more, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot unconsciously. "I ah...I see. I um...I apologize for my assumption." he muttered in embarrassment. She laughed a bit more, low this time, and briefly, as she stepped close to him, a hand reaching up to remove him of his hat. "No need to apologize. To be honest I think I'd rather enjoy it if your assumption were true."

And then she kissed him, just a soft and brief placement of her lips against his before she was already pulling away.

He caught her round the waist before she could retreat completely. She turned toward him, eyes wide with surprise, mouth open in a tiny 'o' of shock. He captured that tiny 'o' against his mouth once more and pulled her further against him, his free hand snaking it's way into her long red hair. She tasted like wine ,chocolate, and honey mixed into one. A sweet and intoxicating taste upon his tongue. That sweet voice of hers moaned into him and set his whole being aflame.

He dropped his hand away from her hair and reached down to cup her firm, round, behind, enjoying in the pliant nature of her muscles beneath his talons. She groaned at the contact and wrapped one, long, milky, white leg around his, trying desperately to gain more friction from the way he had pressed her so clean against him. He growled against her lips and moved away from her mouth, trailing tiny kisses, and light bites down her chin and onto the side of her neck, across even her shoulder. His hand moved from her sturdy waist and grasped upward, cupping a single breast in desperation.

She gasped at his touch and then laughed as a taloned-hand reached up her leg to grip her thigh almost painfully. That laugh seemed to pull some sense into her for she released him and swiftly batted away his searching hands as she stepped back and away from him. And he stared at her in hunger, noting with pure male pride that her lips were wet because of him and not because of her make-up, her red-hair turned wild from where he had pulled at it and run his talons through it's strands.

She beckoned him toward her, away from the door...to the couch where she sat slowly, gracefully, her form draping over it as fluidly as water. He shed his coat as he went, and pulled his tie free casting it to the side, following her like a man possessed. She smiled at him and held out a hand to him in welcome, drawing him in with a gentle pull of his sleeve.

She leaned back onto the couch and allowed him to climb over her, his legs framing hers on either side. She reached up to trail her hand underneath his fringe, her nails lightly scratching across his skin as she ran her hand down onto his throat. He took a deep breath when her hand dipped lower to the small expanse of chest visible above the first button of his shirt. She let it linger there for a moment before she ripped it down and popped his buttons loose one at a time until she hit the edge of his vest.

He pulled her hand away and braced it above her head as he leaned in to claim her lips once more. She writhed beneath him and grasped at his shoulders pleased gasps escaping her swollen lips. Unable to draw away from her mouth he shrugged out of his vest, his lips still eagerly devouring her. She helped relieve him of his shirt, her hands quick with need, oddly strong in the way they pulled and gripped at him.

A pleasurable groan rumbled from his throat as she wound her arms around him and ran her fingers down his back. He reached up the slit in her dress and pressed against the flesh he found there with barely constrained passion. The sweet smell of her perfume wafted up from her hair as he buried his face within those soft red locks and grasped her breast in his hand. A sharp intake of breath was the only hint he had to her next actions as she suddenly sat up straight, forcing him to release her and pull away lest he hurt her...or...as was more likely...lest he fall off the couch in surprise.

She leaned into him for a moment, her body shaking with her desire and then arched against him and whispered desperately into his ear. "My dress. You have to unzip it." He could not help the look of amusement that danced across his features as he looked down at her, this sultry woman who was now quaking with her need for him in his lap. She was disheveled, her hair wild and aflame, her lips swollen, tell-tale red marks along her neck marking his assaults. She was still so beautiful...so undeniably an image of strength and confidence...were he not careful...he could fall for a woman like this.

He pulled her closer to him and held her there with one taloned hand as the other found her zipper and slowly, tortuously, pulled it down to it's end at her hip. He pulled it from her effortlessly and left her lying bare before him. She was pale and pink and gloriously red from where his hands had traveled. He'd never known that humans could be so...adorably pink.

He didn't know why but he thought of the drell then and the men with their jealous smiles. He nearly laughed in triumph...to think that he not only got to see her...but to touch her. He was sure it would have driven them mad. His smile was a conqueror's smile and she matched it with one of sultry delight. She shifted and pulled him down to meet her and gasped as he complied and ran a rough talon over a soft, pink bud.

He nuzzled against the softness of her stomach. The feel of her like velvet. Her sweat smelling richly of the perfume she used. He trailed his free hand downward, aiming for the belt at his waist. He worked it loose while coddling that sweet flesh in his hands drawing mewls of pleasure from the woman beneath him. With an effort he drew himself away and turned away from her in order to kick off his shoes, followed quickly by his trousers and shorts beneath. Her hands were on him before he could recuperate, grasping at his neck and his hip, her soft body brushing against his back.

Her touch was tantalizingly soft and oh-so accurate in the way it drew pleasure from him and set his skin aflame. He let a frustrated moan filled with want escape on a breath and rounded on her, dragging her throat to his mouth, taking in the soft flesh that met him there. He pushed her down and found no resistance. Indeed she seemed so eager to have him, her leg languidly gracing against his, urging him close.

A guttural sound ushered from the back of his throat and he begged to any god that would hear him to let him endure. He entered her and fought the instinct to drive in without thinking. She was so warm, so tight, and so soft. She moaned out her pleasure at the feel of him and arched her back, brushing herself against him to create more sweet friction. He held back a growl at the feel of her against him and gave up all hope of restraint.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down to meet him completely. He drove into her relentlessly, tormented by her wanton cries and the memory of her sultry voice singing in his ear. She met his pace with ease and he found himself surprised as when she grabbed him just behind the neck, holding and scratching and gripping as she rode out each wave of pleasure, each thrust. And when she grew close she latched on to him, drawing him close, dragging their bodies together so his rough chest rubbed harshly against her own. She cried and clung to him, sinking her teeth into his neck to muffle her final scream. He felt her voice reverberate within him and snarled as his own release came.

They stayed like that for some time, each fighting their harsh breath and the lethargy that came from their actions. And then at last she breathed deep and released him, falling back on her couch in a graceful pile to stare up at him with those dreaming, dancing, blue eyes. Her smile was tired and secretive and sexy beyond words he knew to tell. Her hand followed the line of his scarring delicately and she tilted her head to study him completely. "A turian lover...that's new for me...I find I rather like it." Her voice purred with a lazy drawl and her lips curved into a satisfied grin.

He couldn't help the humor that crossed his face. "Then it is a pity I won't see you again."

Her smile did not falter, but her eyes framed a brief hint of something...sadness? Regret? Loneliness? He could not tell. "Yes." she told him simply. "It truly is. Will you not even tell me your name?"

He studied her seriously, his hand framing her face. He thought of the dangers of giving up his cover. He thought of all the things he'd learned of trust and betrayal in his long years. He felt the scar on his face burn with the memory of another time he had trusted someone and they had turned on him. And then he looked into her eyes and saw into her. She would not know it, but he smiled. "It's Garrus. Garrus Vakarian."

...

Neross: Okay...so...yeah. I hope you all enjoyed it. Kudos to those who got the heavy-handed references. But moist chocolate cake to those who got the subtle ones! For those of you who either did not get the references or do not enjoy Kudos or moist chocolate cake...shame on you. Seriously...SHAME! ON! YOU!

Now. Go review. Because this was very difficult for me to write and I'd like to get some feedback about how I did. Especially since this is my first hetero pairing since...crap...I think in three or four years. It's also my first Mass Effect fanfiction so let me know if there was something I missed or got wrong or...whatever. I'm relying on you (my readers) to let me know what I'm doing wrong and what I'm doing right so it's important to do your part and hit me with all you've got.

Until then my sweet sick little darlings, stay tuned for more of my sweet torture won't you?


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